Dawn came too soon.
Kael at the edge of the forest, watching the first light bleed across the horizon like a wound. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and something fouler—something *rotting*. Ahead, the land sloped downward into a vast, mist-choked expanse of blackened reeds and stagnant water.
The Black Marsh.
Lysara tightened the straps of her pack, her emerald eyes scanning the fog. "They say the water here remembers the dead."
Kael adjusted the sword at his hip, his fingers brushing the silver pendant beneath his tunic. "Then let's hope it forgets us."
Eirik had warned them—*the marsh drowns fools and kings alike.* But Kael wasn't a king. He was a survivor.
They stepped into the mire.
The water rose to their knees, thick as tar, pulling at their boots with every step. Strange, phosphorescent fungi clung to gnarled roots, casting an eerie glow through the mist. The deeper they went, the heavier the air became—thick with the stench of decay and something metallic. *Blood.*
Then, a whisper.
*"Kael..."*
He froze. That voice—*familiar*.
Lysara turned. "What is it?"
Kael's pulse hammered. "Did you hear that?"
She shook her head.
Another whisper, closer now. *"You left us..."*
A figure materialized in the fog—pale, translucent, its hollow eyes fixed on him.
Kael's breath caught.
*Mira.*
But not the sister he remembered. This was a specter, her skin ashen, her lips blue with death.
"You let them kill us," she hissed.
Lysara grabbed his arm. "Kael, there's nothing there!"
But he *saw* her. *Heard* her.
The ghost lunged—
Kael stumbled back, splashing into the water. The vision shattered, leaving only the marsh's mocking silence.
Lysara hauled him up, her grip iron. "The marsh plays tricks. Breathe."
Kael wiped his face, his hands shaking. *Was it real?*
Ahead, something glinted in the sludge.
A helmet.
Empire-issued.
And the corpse wearing it was *fresh.*
The body was mutilated—throat slit, armor stripped, a single symbol carved into the flesh of its forehead.
*⚡*
Kael's stomach twisted. *The Stormblood sigil.*
Lysara crouched, examining the wound. "This wasn't the marsh. Someone killed him. *Recently.*"
A twig snapped.
Kael spun, sword drawn—
A man stood atop a half-sunken log, silhouetted against the mist. Tall, broad-shouldered, his face obscured by a tattered hood. A long, curved blade rested against his shoulder.
"Took you long enough," the stranger drawled.
Kael's grip tightened. "Who the hell are you?"
The man chuckled, stepping down. "Name's Dain." He pulled back his hood, revealing a face as scarred as Kael's, his dark hair streaked with silver. "And I've been cleaning up your messes."
Lysara's eyes narrowed. "You killed this soldier?"
Dain kicked the corpse. "One of many." He smirked at Kael. "You're welcome."
Kael didn't lower his sword. "Why?"
Dain's smirk faded. "Because the Empire's offering a fortune for your head. And I *hate* competition."
A beat of silence.
Then—
Dain lunged.
Kael barely parried in time, their blades screaming as they locked. Lysara ducked low, her dagger flashing toward Dain's ribs—
He twisted, kicking her back into the water. "Cute."
Kael snarled, pressing forward. "You're working for them!"
Dain blocked, his strength staggering. "Wrong. I'm working for *me*." He shoved Kael back. "But I'll make you a deal."
Kael hesitated.
Dain's grin was all teeth. "Help me kill the bastard who sent these soldiers after you, and I'll let you live."
Kael's mind raced. *A trap?*
But Dain tossed something at his feet—a bloodstained missive.
Kael snatched it up, scanning the words.
*"Bring me Kael Aranthos alive. The Stormblood heir belongs to me."*
Signed:
*Lord Veyne.*
Kael's blood turned to ice.
*Veyne.* Lysara's *father.*
He whipped toward her—
Lysara's face had gone pale. "That's impossible."
Dain crossed his arms. "Guess daddy didn't tell you *everything*."
The marsh seemed to close in around them, the mist thickening like a shroud.
Kael's voice was deadly quiet. "Explain. *Now.*"
Lysara shook her head. "My father died years ago—"
"*Liar!*" Dain barked a laugh. "Lord Veyne's the Empire's right hand. He's the one who ordered your family slaughtered."
Kael's vision blurred. *No.*
Lysara backed away. "Kael, I didn't know—"
"Didn't know?" Kael's laugh was hollow. "Or didn't *tell* me?"
Her silence was answer enough.
Dain whistled. "Awkward."
Kael turned on him. "And you? Why turn on your employer?"
Dain's smirk vanished. "Because Veyne killed my brother. And I want revenge." He extended a hand. "So. Allies?"
Kael stared at the offered hand, his mind a storm.
*Trust no one.*
But the marsh wasn't giving them a choice.
Somewhere in the mist, a horn sounded.
*Empire reinforcements.*
Dain's grin returned. "Tick-tock, Stormblood."
Kael made his decision.
He grabbed Dain's wrist. "We move. *Now.*"
They ran, the marsh water churning behind them as shouts echoed through the trees. The mist parted just enough to reveal it—
A crumbling fortress, its towers broken like teeth against the sky.
*Stormhold.*
The relic was here.
And so were the answers.
As they crossed the threshold, the ground trembled—
A deep, resonant *hum* pulsed through the stones, like a heartbeat.
Kael's pendant grew warm against his chest.
Dain whistled. "Well. That's not ominous at all."
Lysara touched the wall, her fingers tracing an ancient inscription.
*"Only the blood of the storm may enter."*
Kael stepped forward—
The doors *screamed* open.
And from the darkness within, a voice echoed:
*"Welcome home, Kael Aranthos."*